


Sophie's Diary

by sophiesdiary8



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:41:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24148327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiesdiary8/pseuds/sophiesdiary8
Summary: This work of fan fiction and labor of love is dedicated to the genius and masterful artistry of Todd Phillips, Joaquin Phoenix, Lawrence Sher, and to all the others who worked together tirelessly to bring us fans the beautiful gift that is Joker.  Thank you all for sparking a fire in our hearts and imaginations.  This is also dedicated and for all the fans who really wanted  Arthur to experience the romance, love, and affection that he very much fucking deserved.
Relationships: Arthur Fleck/You, Sophie Dumond & Arthur Fleck, Sophie Dumond/Arthur Fleck
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

Oct. 14, 1981

I’ve tasted blood and it is sweet  
I’ve had the rug pulled beneath my feet  
I’ve trusted lies and trusted men  
Broke down and put myself back together again  
Stared in the mirror and punched it to shatters  
Collected the pieces and picked out a dagger  
I’ve pinched my skin between my two fingers  
And wished I could cut some parts off with scissors  
“Come on little lady, give us a smile.”  
No, I ain’t got nothing to smile about  
I got no one to smile for, I waited a while for  
A moment to say: I don’t owe you a goddamn thing

Dear Diary,

After my father’s second failed suicide attempt, a social worker assigned to my case recommened that I keep a journal to help me work out my feelings. I did not take her advice then, my thoughts were racing around faster than I could capture them anyways. There was always so much going on around me. At home there was always screaming, fighting, grabbing, and throwing...of items, people, perhaps an innocent pet...and school wasn’t much better. The constant stress of my home life kept me wrapped up tight inside of myself, like a snail finding reprieve in its shell. I only unravelled myself when necessary, to occasionally eat or to answer the rare question directed my way in class. I was getting so good at hiding that I was pretty sure no one else could see me either, at least most days. Sometimes it felt like I could survive weeks at a time getting by on just head nods and head shakes, arms crossed tightly over my chest, head down, eyes fixed on my feet. Other days I had to endure the typical high school bullshit...the cussing, groping, cat calling, cat fighting! Ugh! I was so EXHAUSTED some days. I honestly wished I could sleep through the rest of that "childhood” of mine. I mean, I didn’t know if being an adult would be much better; I saw how the adults around me acted. I was from a horrible small town, with even more horrible small town habits. Everyone was gossiping, drinking, cheating, nosy, and/or a beligerent piece of shit; or, they were so holier than thou...I had to walk on eggshells around them either way...and if you wanted anything more for yourself than that, they thought you were a fucking alien for it. All of their opinions didn’t matter though, I knew I wanted different and would run as far and fast as I could as soon as I turned 18, and that’s exactly what I did.


	2. Chapter 2

Oct. 15, 1981

You know what?  
Maybe if I had had you  
I wouldn’t have went through half the shit I went through  
So I blame you  
Or maybe I should say, “thank you”,  
‘Cause I wouldn’t have been me

Dear Diary,

I sit on the bench next to the open window of my bedroom in my 8th floor apartment, looking out past the fire escape, to the vast city around me. Literally everywhere I could see was taken up by people, buildings, cars, trash, smog. Unlike the sweet breezes of my hometown, the air here was stale, and smelled like the trash bags that now lined the streets; but it also smelled like something else to me, it smelled like fucking freedom. Up here in my tenemant castle, I am thousands of miles away from my stupid, stupid family, and while to be honest...I’m only an 18 year old waitress making just enough money to survive...I feel so full of possibility. Here in Gotham, I feel like anything at all could happen. Dreams could come true...and well, so could nightmares...but that was all part of the appeal of starting a new life somewhere completely the opposite of anything I had ever known. Well, maybe not exactly the opposite. People were still mostly assholes, and I was still mostly invisible...but I was pretty comfortable like this. I realized my upbringing wasn’t completely worthless after all…


	3. Chapter 3

Oct. 16, 1981

Funny how the heart can be deceiving  
More than just a couple of times  
Why do we fall in love so easy,  
Even when it’s not right?

Dear Diary

I’d been keeping my head down, doing what I had to do. I’d been opening regularly at the diner, making just enough for rent, some food, and necessities; but on the up side, I had a roommate I rarely saw. I had found my roommate through a wanted ad in the paper, and although I couldn’t be sure she wasn’t a serial killer or anything like that, I was leaning towards believing that she was a hooker and an alcoholic. She slept all day, leaving at night fall in high heels and short dresses, her hair teased high on her head. She’d be smoking a cigarette and mixing an orange juice and vodka, babbling something about how the day had gotten away from her, and asking if I had a dollar to spare for cigarettes. She’d wander in again around 4 a.m., eat a piece of toast and butter, drink her vodka, and head back to bed. I liked her fine. She provided the exact amount of friendship and conversation I was looking for. And there was no way I could afford a place by myself, even in this piece of shit building, so beggars can’t be choosers.   
I trudged up the 132 steps that stood between the subway station and my street. I was really hoping the elevator would be working, so that I wouldn’t have to drag my tired body up the stairs to the 8th floor as well. It wasn’t as if I needed the exercise. I was working 8, 10, and 12 hours a day on a diet of the fruit I kept at home and the leftovers on customer’s plates. A few bites of leftover bread crust and a bite or two of hash browns could go a surprisingly long way when the body no longer remembered what a proper meal felt like.   
I reached my building and saw that the elevator was just beginning to close as I walked in the main doors. I knew if I let it go, it might never make it back down to me so I broke out into a run, and yelled out, “wait!”, to the person inside. Just my luck, they stuck their foot out to hold the door for me just as I reached the elevator. “Wow, thanks so much,” I said, “this building is so awful, I couldn’t bear walking up to the 8th floor again”. I instinctively made a little gun with my hand, put it up to my temple, and pulled the trigger. I turned to look at my now companion in this potential death box. He was kind of looking away from me, so I took a moment to take him in. He was a few inches taller than me, thin, with longish, wavy brown hair swept back from his lined but oddly handsome face. He finally gave me a sidelong glance and a smirk, and though he was still looking down and somewhat away from me, I got a glimpse of his remarkable green eyes. Jesus fucking Christ. I felt a little flutter in my stomach then immediately felt embarrassed. He was obviously older than I, and even though we both resided in the same crappy building, he looked decently dressed in his khaki jacket, sweater vest, collared shirt, slacks, and nice fucking shiny dress shoes; while there I was with my frumpy, moth eaten brown coat hanging open to reveal my ugly light blue button down waitress smock, complete with the grease streaked apron still attached to the front of my skirt. I hid one of my scuffed Mary Jane’s behind the other. I felt my face flush and I quickly closed my coat and crossed my arms over my chest. As if sensing my embarrassment, his smirk grew and he raised his eyebrows at me. I quickly looked straight ahead, and thankfully at that moment the doors opened to reveal the 8th floor. I had to keep from sighing an audible sigh of relief. He waited for me to step out of the elevator and I turned right, towards my apartment which is 8B, and he turned left towards his. Just as I was reaching my door he yelled out, “hey!”. I turned to look and he put a finger gun up to his temple and pulled the trigger. He hung his head to the side and he was just staring me down with those intense eyes of his. I smiled, trying to keep my cool, and turned back to my door so that I could get the hell inside of my apartment. He turned and headed up the hall as I slid around my barely opened door like a snake, shut it behind me and leaned my back on it for a moment.   
Phew. My heart was beating a little too quickly inside my chest and for a moment I was really annoyed at myself. I didn’t exactly have the best track record with guys. The only decent boyfriend I had ever had was way back in kindergarten, when all we had to do was hold hands and share a snack. Every guy since then had treated me like a piece of meat. A couple had drinking or drug problems, yes, in highschool; which is why I was too naive to realize anything was the matter until we were doing 100 mph on the highway, arguing about pure bullshit or rumours, literally fearing for my life. I could no longer keep track of the times where I was pushed up against a wall or had my wrists held tight against my will. By 10 I already carried a pocket knife with me at all times and by the age of 14 I was finally brave enough to use it when I found myself being held down on the ground of someone’s dirty hell hole of a house by some guy I barely knew, but who I thought to be “nice”, trying to rip down my panties so he could stick his dirty cock inside me. He had his weight on top of me and was holding my one hand down hard, but I was able to sneak the other hand down inside my pocket, flip the blade, and stab him in the leg. When he rolled off me, screaming, to grab his wound, I stood up and kicked him in the fucking ribs and then the side of the head before I ran away. He later told everyone he was mugged for the three dollars he had in his wallet. Fuck that guy. But anyways, the upside was, I wasn’t scared of much anymore. The downside...well, I wasn’t scared of much anymore...but I was afraid that this attitude could get me into serious trouble or lead me into an early grave. I so wanted something fresh and different. Something real, and deep, and intimate...but I knew myself, and I knew I was a sucker for beautiful eyes...I also knew that there was a possibility that this mystery person wasn’t a complete piece of shit. I laid down to nap, but with my mind already dreaming up “what if’s” and the plan to ask my roommate about our neighbor whenever she decided to get up later.  
I was in and out of sleep when I heard shuffling and cursing in the kitchen. I jumped up out of bed, still in my uniform, still dirty, now wrinkled as well. My hair had worked its way loose of it’s sloppy bun and now fell down my back in lazy tendrils. I imagined that I looked like a sleepy, dirty, poor, brunette Cinderella. “Hey Marta!”, I yelled out to my roommate as I rounded the corner into the kitchen. She looked at me with her red rimmed eyes, cigarette hanging from a corner of her mouth. She looked so tired but she managed a little smile for me. “Hey girl, what’s up?”, she said. She was a sweet person at heart, I could tell, and I’m pretty sure she enjoyed sharing her space with me. I knew that at least for me, it was nice knowing I wasn’t completely alone in this nutty city. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”, she asked. “I was and I will'', I said hastily, “but first I have a question for you”...”What do you know about our one neighbor that lives down the hall?”...”The older guy with the pretty green eyes?” She looked at me like I was weird for a second. “I really don’t know much about him”, she said. “Except that his name is Arthur, he works as a clown for hire, and he lives with his mother.” “Watch out for him”, she continued, “older men that live with their old ass mothers are usually creeps.” I let out a startled laugh and rolled my eyes at her. “Well that’s just rude”, I told her jokingly, even though in my mind I was thinking, “a clown???” She started talking about something else but I was already in my own head, thinking about when I might run into my possibly creepy, but possibly charming older male neighbor again.


	4. Chapter 4

Oct 17, 1981

Oh, it’s funny how  
The warning signs can feel like they’re butterflies...

Dear Diary,

I had a much weirder day than I could have anticipated. I had a hard time falling asleep the night before because my silly little mind couldn’t stop daydreaming long enough to actually fall asleep. Incidentally, I woke up late this morning. I had only enough time to strip off my p.j.s, throw my smock over my head, sweep my hair back into a bun, slide into my shoes, and grab my coat before I ran out the door and hustled down the 8 flights of steps (faster than waiting for the elevator). I ran down the 132 steps and across the street to the subway. When I reached the platform I finally looked down at my watch and realized I had a couple of minutes to spare before my train was due. I leaned forward to put my hands on my knees and I took a deep breath in and out. The train arrived and I made my way in and quickly inspected a seat for any questionable items or residues, and then plunked my butt down in it. The train pulled away from the station and I naturally resumed one of my favorite pastimes, daydreaming. I was comfortably zoned out and staring off into space until I got this weird feeling like something was off. I snapped back to reality and slowly looked around the train. It felt like someone was watching me. I stood up and made my way to the doors as my stop was approaching. Stepping off the train and onto the platform, I continued to the subway exit but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being followed. It wasn’t until I reached my workplace and had ducked behind the counter to start my shift that I saw who had been following me. It was my neighbor, Arthur. While looking out the restaurant's large front window, tying my apron, I spotted him peeking out from around the corner of the building across the street. It was such a quick glimpse that I almost wondered if I had made it up. But thinking back, I knew I hadn’t. I had put myself on autopilot, taking orders, handing them out, cleaning up, washing dishes but I had thought about it all day. And after stewing for 8 hours, I had decided that I was going to confront him as soon as I got home. I mean, maybe I was a little flattered, but I was also pissed. Like, what the fuck? What kind of person would think it was a good idea to follow a stranger to work?  
So after work, I got home and headed straight to his apartment, 8J. I took a deep breath, held it, and knocked on the door. Arthur opened the door and I immediately felt myself soften. I let out the breath I was holding in. He looked so cute standing there and I realized it was the first time we had stood face to face like this. His eyes were even more beautiful than I remembered. His hair was slicked back like he had just gotten out of the shower. He was wearing a cozy sweater rolled up his forearms, and pajama pants. The loose kind that makes you want to reach out and jiggle a man’s parts. But he also had a guilty look on his face. So I gathered my courage, looked him straight in the eye and asked, “Were you following me today?” He looked like he was considering lying to me but finally settled on a hesitant “yes”. I was losing my commitment to feeling offended and the people pleaser in me felt guilty for calling him out. “I thought it was you, I was actually hoping you would come in and rob the place”, I said, to lighten the moment. He looked relieved that I wasn’t angry. “I have a gun, I could come by tomorrow if you want me to”, he said. That actually made me laugh out loud. I felt the last of the tension leave my body and I was no longer upset that this sweet weirdo had followed me to work. He was obviously just awkward and couldn’t figure out how to approach me. I liked guys with an offbeat sense of humour and I told him so. He told me that he was just starting out as a stand up comedian and he invited me to his next show. I told him I would be there...and I left feeling really glad to have spoken to him again so soon, despite the circumstances. I walked back down the hall to my apartment knowing in my mind that I was a dumbass, but with butterflies in the pit of my stomach.


	5. Chapter 5

Oct. 18, 1981

Where there is desire, there is gonna be a flame  
Where there is a flame, someone’s bound to get hurt  
But just because it burns, it doesn’t mean you’re gonna die  
You have to get up and try...

Dear Diary,

I will now take a moment to defend myself..to myself. I have to admit that by this point I could have guessed that my interactions with Arthur would not be run of the mill, but I could not have ever dreamed up the actual encounter that I had with him. I will just start from the beginning so that I can sort this out in my mind.   
There was a knock on the door late last night. I am normally wary of visitors but happened to be walking past the door into the kitchen at the time, so without looking or even thinking, I reached for the door knob and opened the door. Before I had time to process what was happening, I was locked in a passionate kiss with Arthur. He literally just burst in, took my face in his hands, and kissed me with such fervor...my heart seized up, I was kissing him back, just wet and messy, and I could feel the excitement shoot through me, right to my pussy. I felt my body responding to him, but my mind was trying to get a word in edgewise. It felt like a dream but I knew I had to pull myself back to reality. I put my hands on both of his shoulders and pushed him away, hard. I came towards him and shoved him back one more time for good measure. “What the fuck is going on Arthur, are you absolutely fucking insane?!”, I screamed. “We barely know each other and you barge in here…” I let my words trail off because I am now looking at him and taking everything in. He’s in full clown makeup and costume but not just that, he looks like he’s been through the fucking wringer. Sweaty, disheveled, with blood running from his nose down his face. I brought my hand up to my mouth and pulled it away to inspect it, and sure enough, there was blood on my fingertips. “I will give you one chance to tell me what the fuck is going on with you”, I said firmly. “If you don’t want to tell me or you think you are going to lie to me, then just get the fuck out right now and never speak to me or cross my path again.” He looked taken aback, but he put his hand over his mouth and started laughing. Fucking laughing. I almost lost my shit right then and there but as I was watching him I saw in his eyes that he was struggling and he started to literally choke on this fucking laugh. I motioned for him to sit on the couch. He sat down and clumsily pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, barely able to control his own motions as he was taken over by the fit of now clearly anxious and uncomfortable laughter. I grabbed a lighter from the side table, took the cigarettes out of his hand, slid one out, put it to my mouth, and lit it. I took a deep drag and I felt the instant lightness in my head and heaviness in my feet. I handed him the cigarette as I exhaled the smoke and perched on the edge of the chair that sat directly across from his. My back straight, legs crossed, hands on my knee, fingers interlaced; waiting him out. He took a couple of drags in between the laughter and I could see that he was starting to calm down. I was determined to have an actual conversation with him, right then, right there. He was finally able to catch his breath and start talking. He started off slow, having to stifle a stray guffaw, but when he finally got his momentum going, he told me everything.  
His ordeal had started days before. The day previous to the fateful day that we had met in the elevator. Some kids had stolen a sign he was using for a gig, and when he chased them down to retrieve it, the gang of little fuckers beat the shit out of him. The next day, his co-worker gave him a gun for protection (which he apparently wasn’t supposed to have, I didn’t inquire further), but then his boss called him into his office to accuse him of stealing the sign (stealing a sign?) and threatened to dock his pay for it. A couple of days later he did a gig as a clown at a children’s hospital and he apparently dropped the gun and kicked it across the floor for all to see. Of course, word got back to his boss and he was fired from the only job he had ever been any good at. He tried to salvage his job by claiming the that gun was a prop for his performance but it was then revealed to him that the same co-worker that GIFTED him the gun threw him under the bus to the boss by saying that Arthur actually solicited him for the gun (he adamantly claimed that as a lie). Then that very night as he rode the subway home, everything really went to shit. Three guys (he described them as Wall Street type guys), were harassing a young woman in the same subway car he was riding in. He tried to mind his own business, but the anxiety sparked a fit of nervous laughter that of course he couldn’t contain. They taunted him, punched him in the face, and when he fell to the floor, all three of them started to kick the shit of him. (I was so fucking angry at this point that I could feel my insides rattling, but I kept a straight face, and let him continue). He really believed that they would have fucking stomped him to death as he reached for his revolver and shot two of them at point blank range. He shot the third as he was running away from him and hit him in the leg. In a panic, he chased that guy off the train and onto the platform. There was a short chase, but he ultimately caught up to him and shot him in the back before escaping the train terminal. From what he believed, and what it sounded like, he had killed all three of them. I was honestly at a loss for words. There sat this man before me, pouring out his very soul to me and confessing his sins. I could see that he was tired and broken down, but not beaten by any means. If anything, he had fought for his fucking life and won.  
As I write it out now, I remember the intensity of that moment. I felt the weight of his words hanging between us. There was also the immense expectation there too. Would I judge him? Would I run off in fear and never want to see him again? But honestly, when I looked at his face, I could only think about how evident it was that he needed me to be there for him; and I didn’t want to fuck it up. I didn’t have a way with words. I couldn’t remember a single time anyone had ever comforted me in a time of need. No kind words, no hand on the shoulder, or rub of the back. So I decided that since he had done just as I asked him, I would give him what he had come to me for.  
I stood up and walked to him in what felt like slow motion. I put my hand on his cheek and he rested it against my hand. He covered my hand with his and moved it over his mouth where he placed the lightest of kisses in the palm of my hand. There is nothing like those first touches where something so innocent can be felt magnified a million times and can spread to even the randomest of places, like my toes and maybe even the ends of my hairs. I finally took his hand and led him from the living room to my bedroom. I closed the door behind us and led him to the bed. I motioned for him to lie down and he did. I knew I didn’t want him to do any of the work, he had already done enough that night. So I straddled his hips and leaned forward to kiss him. When I did, I felt the passion ignite in my stomach all over again. I sat up so I could pull my t-shirt off over my head and waited for him to get a good look at me before continuing. He reached up to brush my loose, wild hair back from my chest. The moonlight shined in and illuminated my body as if I was being lighted for a Victorian painting. “You look so beautiful”, he whispered. My breath caught in my throat. I rocked my hips back and forth so I could feel his erection, just a few thin layers of clothing separating him from what he wanted so desperately. He sighed when I did this. I wondered if he knew that I wanted him just as badly as he wanted me. I leaned forward so I could dip each of my breasts into his mouth. He eagerly sucked each one as I teasingly and slowly pulled them away so I could hear the satisfying little “pop” sound as the suction broke. I slid my bottom down so I was straddling his thighs so that I could undo his button and zipper. Somewhere between the desire and heightened emotion, I could see that my hands had begun to shake sofly. I pulled his hard penis out of his pants and shifted my body back over his hips so that only the thin cloth of my panties separated us. I wanted him so much, but I wanted to prolong this moment as long as I could, so I grinded up against him as I leaned down to kiss him again. I knew that once he was inside of me, neither one of us was going to last very long. As his moans grew deeper with each touch of our lips and tongues, I reached down and slid him inside of me. He made the most beautiful, guttural noise when I did this, and I almost came on him right then and there, but I took a deep breath, leaned back, and rode him ever so slowly. I kept him deep inside of me, moving just millimeters at a time. I had never felt anything that intense before in my life. My body felt warm and vibrating, I imagined I must have been glowing like a campfire. He watched me the entire time with those mesmerizing eyes. They seemed to reflect even the faintest amount of light and they were glowing that night. He never closed them, until the very last second. We were moaning in unison, moving faster against each other, minds no longer involved, just two bodies working together for the common cause, when he closed his eyes, and I knew it was time. I felt my insides pulsating in release against his swollen member and the feeling of his cum hitting my insides made me utter his name, “Arthur!”, I exclaimed, as if it had been pushed out of me by the motion of our bodies. I let myself collapse over him, and we laid together until our breathing evened, and I was not surprised when he fell right to sleep. I slowly slid my body off of his and propped myself up on an elbow right next to him so I could watch him. And so I laid there, and looked at his adorable sleeping face. He was handsome even through all the smeared makeup and now dried blood. I traced my fingers over his eyebrows. Ever so lightly touched the ends of his eyelashes. I brushed the hair back from his forehead and slowly pushed up on my elbow so I could kiss his temple. I softly kissed his cheekbone, the hollow of his cheek. He pulled me closer in his sleep so I relaxed down next to him. I snuck one hand down under his shirt so I could rest it on the soft hair of his deliciously flat stomach. I took a deep breath and counted down from 100 in my head, the way I used to do as a child when I was too excited or too scared to sleep…


	6. Chapter 6

Oct. 19, 1981

You got my head spinning, no kidding, I can’t pin you down  
What’s going on in that beautiful mind  
I’m on your magical mystery ride  
And I’m so dizzy, don’t know what hit me, but I’ll be alright  
My head’s underwater, but I’m breathing fine  
You’re crazy, and I’m out of my mind…

Dear Diary,

I can’t believe we went on a date. I had such a good time with Arthur. It was almost weird being out with someone that was so attentive and so interested in what I had to say, rather than being all freakishly self involved...phew, just thinking about him gets my heart beating a mile a minute again but I want to start at the beginning…  
So, I brought a change of clothes to work with me because I knew my boss wouldn’t let me leave early, and that meant I would have to leave straight from work in order to catch Arthur’s act at Pogo’s. Luckily it was only a couple of blocks away so I made it in time. While sitting there waiting for him to come out on stage I was so freaking nervous for him. I had never been to a comedy club or anything like that and the idea of going up on stage with a room full of people watching your every move really made me want to run to the ladie’s room for a quick puke. But I sipped on my soda and tried some deep breathing. After all, I didn’t have to get up there myself. And well, when it was all said and done, I really thought Arthur did a great job! I mean, he was pretty nervous at first but once he got going he was really funny! Not exactly “haha” funny, but like ironic funny, and his comedic timing was excellent. I love that he has his own style, I mean, who gets to decide if something is funny anyways? A lot of people were laughing, and those who weren’t can suck a cock.  
We didn’t stay to watch the other acts because we wanted to be able to hang out and talk. I was really glad that it was cold as shit outside because it helped to cover up the fact that I was acting like a freaking spaz. Like, by the time I saw him, I was so excited to be around him that I was shaking. Really shaking, like from the cold, but it wasn’t from the cold? I don’t know. I had never felt like that before. We were just walking down the street chatting, our arms interlocked, me holding on for dear life, shaking like a leaf in the cold breeze. We weren’t even saying much honestly but I could feel the hormones pumping through me, all that delight, excitement, anticipation, lust...and I could tell he felt the same way. He was just smiling at me and watching me with those shining eyes of his, it felt like I was in the spotlight. Oh my God. We were being soooo pathetic but we couldn’t help it.   
I don’t know, being 18, I felt like I was JUST becoming an adult. I felt very much still a child in many ways, and even though I considered myself intelligent, I also did a lot of really stupid shit, so I also considered myself a dumbass...point being, I look at Arthur like an actual adult. I know he doesn’t exactly have his shit together, but he is more of an adult than I. So that feeling contrasted with the fact that he still seems so inexperienced in certain aspects, is a real turn on to me. I mean, he can’t have had much experience with women. He was so shy and awkward, there was no way. I was pretty sure I had fucked more in my 18 years than he had in 35. It made me feel powerful in a way; more desirable, just knowing my pussy was going to make him feel things he had never felt before...sigh. It was absolutely disconcerting to me the effect he was having and I felt unbalanced.   
So anyways, we were walking, talking, giggling, but I was dragged back to reality for a moment when we stopped by a newstand. I could literally feel his attention shift from me straight to the headline of the paper. It of course featured a story about a "killer clown" on the loose. It was hard to believe that Arthur was the fucking killer clown...I mean, it wasn’t like they knew the whole story...if only they knew the guys that were “murdered” were complete pieces of trash. Arthur stopped to admire the depiction of the clown under the headline. It had pointy fangs and all. “Fuck ‘em”, I said to him, “I think the guy that did it is a hero.” I gave him an exaggerated wink and a smile. “Three less pricks in Gotham City, only a million more to go.” I realized as these words left my mouth that I really meant them.  
We eventually ended up at a donut shop where we nursed a cup of coffee and donut each. But whatever, neither one of us was hungry...not for food at least. I had calmed down enough at that point that I could conversate like a normal human again so we asked each other questions back and forth, trying to get to know one another. It turns out he had been taking care of his mother on his own for years, and they were basically each other’s only family. I told him about my shitty family and how he was probably better off having only one family member to deal with. I told him a little more about the issues I was dealing with living at home and how, as unlikely as it seemed, I was actually much happier since I had moved to Gotham. I forced myself to say, “Especially since meeting you, Arthur.” I could myself blush, part of me feeling embarrassed. He reached his hand across the table for mine and when we touched I could feel the electricity flowing between us. “I’m much happier now too”, he said to me, with such sincerity that I almost passed away right there in the booth.   
By the time we made it back to the building I was literally ready to rip his clothes off and have my way with him, but he had already told me that he had to head home to check on his mom and make sure that she made it to bed ok. I had to respect the fact that he wanted to be a good son but that didn’t mean I couldn’t molest him a little before he headed home. While waiting for the elevator, he turned to look at me, and I literally couldn’t contain myself for another second. I leapt into his arms, and immediately we were kissing, and his hands were under my skirt, holding me up by my ass and thighs. I would have literally screamed at someone to get the fuck out of the elevator and out of our way, so thank God it arrived empty. He leaned me up against a corner of the elevator and kissed his way down my neck and then the tops of my tits that were popping out of the top of my blouse. Just as I had hoped, the elevator did it's little thing, where it slowed down somewhere between the 3rd and 4th floors, so that the first few times you think you might plummet to your death, but then eventually you expect it.  
I could feel him rock hard against me through his pants so I just went for it and undid his zipper, slipped him out of his pants, and slid him inside of me so quickly it took his breath away. He didn’t hesitate, and just started pounding the shit out of me. The entire evening had been like foreplay for me and I started cumming before we even hit the 8th floor. His body immediately responded to my cries of pleasure and the elevator doors opened to us moaning and pulsing against each other in pure ecstasy. Oops, our bad. We just let the doors close again and the feeling of him sliding out of me gave me aftershocks. We kissed deeply, straightened our clothes, and pushed the button so the doors would open again. We held hands as he walked me to my apartment. He gave me a spin and dipped me back like a dancer so he could kiss me again. I finally opened my door and we kissed a few more times, playfully, as I slowly shut the door between us. I went to bed that night feeling like a princess and like I really might be in love...


	7. Chapter 7

Oct. 20,1981

‘Cause I got issues, you got ‘em too  
So give ‘em all to me and I’ll give mine to you  
Bask in the glory, of all our problems  
‘Cause we got the kind of love it takes to solve them  
Yeah, I got issues, and one of them is how bad I need you...

Dear Diary,

I got home from work yesterday late in the evening, looking forward to seeing my sweet baby Arthur, and instead arrived to a voicemail telling me that his mother was admitted to Gotham General Hospital and that he was there with her. I of course left for the hospital straight away. When I arrived I saw that they had his mother, Penny, hooked up to oxygen and all sorts of monitors. He told me that she had had a stroke. My heart seized up for a moment. I knew how much his mom meant to him, and I felt really guilty that I hadn’t had an opportunity to meet her until now. We sat and kept vigil, and I tried my hand at the whole comforting the one you love thing. It’s hard to say things like, “she’s going to be o.k.”, when you obviously have no idea if that will be the case. But since I didn’t know what else to say, I stuck with the cliche, rubbed his back, gave him a kiss on the forehead, and went to fetch us some coffee.   
It was quiet in Penny’s room, but out in the hall the hospital was floodlit and busy as could be. I guess it wasn’t hard to imagine that Gotham General would be bustling, what with the cuts in social services and the ongoing riots. I had always loved the smell of hospitals even though I had spent my fair share of time in them as a kid. That sterile look and smell of the place could almost fool you into thinking that the nurses and doctors running from room to room really did have everything handled. Like an air of authority. But the more I interacted with the world, especially now as an adult, I knew that it was mostly a facade. Everyone was really just trying to survive their shift, just doing the best they could with the time they had, and everyone from the janitor to the surgeons were just as fallible as the next person. And everyone had their skeletons in the closet. Ugh. I could feel myself going down the rabbit hole so I just focused on pouring our coffees and making it back to the room to Arthur.  
When I returned, he was standing in the middle of the room, eyes locked on the t.v., but clearly lost in thought. I put the coffees down so I could put my hand on his shoulder. “Hey, what’s the matter, puddin’?” I asked him. He finally noticed me standing there and proceeded to tell me that his Pogo’s clip had just been played on the Murray Franklin show. I was super confused for a moment, because that sounded like good news, but he looked fucking pissed. He went on to explain how Murray basically just mocked him and made fun of him. I have to be honest. Upon hearing that, I immediately pictured myself leaving the hospital, walking my ass down to Murray Franklin’s studio, and setting the fucking place on fire. I took a deep breath in and out. I mean, what the fuck. What were the odds? And with everything else Arthur had on his plate...I linked my arm with his and asked him if it would be o.k. if we headed home. We were both exhausted and Penny was sleeping peacefully. He agreed. He gave his mother a kiss on the cheek and told her goodnight.   
We didn’t really talk on the walk home, I could tell he was getting really overwhelmed with everything going on, and honestly, I was feeling the same way. We walked hip to hip in a comfortable rhythm despite the cold. When we finally reached our floor, I walked him to his apartment. “I could stay with you, if you want…” I said. He shook his head and while I was surprised and also hurt, I understood that he needed some time alone to sort everything out. I had the urge to say something stupid, tried to repress it, but failed. “Arthur”, I said. He looked at me and his eyes looked so sad and tired that my heart started breaking in two. “I love you”, I whispered. I didn’t wait for a response but quickly kissed his cheek, turned on my heel, and headed home. He watched me get into my apartment safely then went inside his own. I missed him so bad that night that my stomach ached. I snuck into the kitchen for a couple of slugs of Marta's vodka so I could quiet my mind and relax my tense body. When I returned to my bed I said a little prayer for my puddin’ and eventually fell into a fitful sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Oct. 21, 1981

Bruises on both my knees for you  
Don’t say thank you or please, I do  
What I want, when I’m wanting to…

Dear Diary,

Wow, did I have a long day today. I woke up super early since my sleep was shit anyways. I had to head to work but I wanted to check in on Arthur first, so I headed over to his apartment, obviously expecting to find him in the morose state that I had left him in the night before...so I was super surprised when I knocked and he answered the door with a big smile on his face. He saw me and wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me right off my feet. He gave me a little twirl before setting me down right inside and turning to throw the door closed. I couldn’t repress a smile myself because he was only wearing a maroon long sleeve shirt and tighty whities; so cute of him. “You won’t believe who I just got off the phone with.” he said. “Murray Franklin wants me on his show as a guest tomorrow night!” “Oh my God! Arthur! What in the world?” I exclaimed. I was a little perplexed because I knew how much he loved Murray Franklin, but I was afraid he just wanted to tease Arthur further about his Pogo’s performance. I decided to not be a drag and just be happy with him. I mean, it wasn’t often that I got to see him happy about something. I told him that I had to head to work and that I just wanted to make sure that he was doing ok, and I mean, clearly he was. “Do you have just a few minutes before you go?” he asked me. “Of course”, I said. “Whatever you need, I have time for.” He walked over to me and pushed my coat off my shoulders, kinda spun me out of it, and threw it over the back of a chair. He then grabbed the back of my head so he could pull me into a passionate kiss. We just kissed and giggled our way to the bedroom, me walking backwards until I felt the back of my legs meet the bed behind me. When we reached the bed he stopped kissing me so that he could turn me around facing away from him. “Bend over for me”, he said. I felt that little flutter in my stomach and of course I obliged. I bent over the bed so that I was resting on my elbows and my ass was in the air facing him. He reached under my skirt and pulled my panties down so that they were around my ankles and then flipped the skirt onto my back so that he could caress the curves of my butt and thighs. He moaned in enjoyment as he did this and that was all it took for me to be dripping wet and ready for him. He put his hard dick inside of me and the rush of pleasure was so intense it hurt my stomach. He fucked me hard and deep and all you could hear in the apartment was our heavy breathing and the sound of his body smacking up against my ass. He slowed down like he was resisting the urge to cum, so I clenched my pussy around his dick and started pushing back hard with each stroke he took. He smacked my ass and pulled my hips back against him so I couldn’t move and I felt him pulsing inside me as he began to cum for me. "I fucking love you", he uttered. Those words and the pleasure in his voice made me cum harder than I ever had before. My whole body convulsed and when we were both finished I let myself fall flat on the bed, unable to move for a moment. He smacked my bare ass one more time. I quickly rolled over and threw a pillow at him in fake annoyance. We were both smiling and laughing and I couldn’t help but think what a beautiful smile he had and how I wished he had more reasons to smile more often. He took both my hands and sat me up on the edge of the bed. We looked into eachothers eyes for a moment and he traced my cheek with his finger. He lifted my chin so that I couldn’t look away and told me again, “I love you”. My eyes welled up with tears. I had had my share of ups and downs but I had never felt so many intense emotions back to back in such a short span of time. I stood up, kissed him hard on the mouth, I looked into his lovely eyes again. “I love you, Arthur.” I hugged him hard to me for a moment and just nuzzled his neck and inhaled his scent. “I love you, baby, I have to go...take care of yourself and try to have a good day”, I said as I headed for the door. I couldn’t have known what a jinx those words really were until later.  
I had stopped back by his apartment when I got off work that night but Arthur wasn’t home. I figured he must have been spending time at the hospital with his mom so I took the opportunity to head home and take a long shower and relax in my bed, daydreaming about our recent tristes while waiting for sleep to take over. But he ended up coming to see me late that night. Marta had left not long before and kept long hours so I was concerned when I heard the front door open and shut. I grabbed my knife off of my bedside table as I leapt out of bed but padded carefully on my bare feet so as to not make any noise as I approached my bedroom door. I walked out past the door and the sight of him there on the couch, in the eerie gray glow of the t.v., soaked to the bone, made me catch my breath in surprise and cover my mouth with my hand. My other hand fell to my side and I let the knife clatter to the floor. He heard me and turned to look at me standing there in my ratty t-shirt and panties. His eyes were dark as night, his face pale from the wet and freezing cold. I ran over to him and knelt down in front of him and took his face in both of my hands. He looked in my eyes and said simply, “I had a bad day”. My stomach knotted in a way that told me that this was a gross understatement but I pushed the discomfort aside and decided to focus on the task of getting him dry and warm. He was just sitting there, in a trance, and I could tell he didn’t have the strength to do it himself. I kissed his forehead and took off to find towels and blankets. I hurried to my room to grab my space heater as well. I returned to the living room and as I expected he hadn’t moved a muscle yet. Just sitting there, head down, hunched over, elbows on his knees, hands clenched together, making a puddle where he sat. I set the space heater on the side table and turned it on so he wouldn’t freeze to death in the drafty living room. I started by peeling his jacket off his shoulders, lifting up each of his arms so I could guide him out of it. I undid the buttons on his shirt and pushed off of him, letting my hands run over his bony shoulders and down his arms as I did. He was covered in goosebumps and I could feel the raised hairs on his arms tickling my dry, dish maid hands. He was watching me as I did these things and I realized that I was hyper aware at that moment. I could hear everything and feel everything. My body was vibrating with what felt like anxiety, but I wasn’t exactly anxious. There was always noise and lights in the city; there were sirens in the background and lights of police cars reflected off of the walls, I could hear footsteps and muffled voices in the building, inside the apartment the static of the t.v. hummed; but more than that, I could hear our bated breaths, I swore I could hear both of our hearts beating. To collect myself, I moved away from his gaze to grab a towel and a blanket and I snuck behind him, and sat my butt on the headrest of the couch so that I was perched with my legs straddling both sides of his back. I could still see the bruising from when he was jumped the previous week. I draped a blanket over his shoulders and with a towel began to dry the still fat and clinging raindrops from his hair. I leaned forward to reach over him and dry his chest. My hair fell forward over the front of his shoulder and he reached up to run his fingers through the strands. Getting down from the couch, I stood in front of him and grabbed both of his hands in a motion for him to stand up. He did, so I took both of my hands back so I could undo the button and zipper of his pants. He sucked in his breath as the backs of my fingers slid down his stomach. I could feel him watching me again. I was beginning to feel like his gaze could see right through me, right into my soul, if there was such a thing. It made my insides liquify. I lifted my face to his, my mouth lightly parted, because I was sofly panting like a fucking dog at this point. I pulled down his pants and underwear but quickly reached for a blanket that I wrapped around him before pushing him back so that he was sitting on the couch again. I got onto my knees so I could remove his shoes, socks, and pants from around his feet. I got up to kick all of the miserable, wet clothing into a pile, and then climbed into his lap, straddling him with my legs, arms wrapped tight around his still cold body, and with my face nestled in his neck. He ran his hands down my back, over my hips, and then rested them on either side of my ass. I kissed his neck and I felt his grip tighten on me. I pressed my crotch down onto his and I felt his body respond to mine. A shot of adrenaline rushed through me. I heard myself begin to hum with pleasure, like a cat purring, but I couldn’t contain it. I pressed my forehead to his so that my hair fell around us like a canopy and we began to kiss. Sofly at first, then more urgently, sucking and biting his lips. I pulled away so I could kiss my way down his chest. He sighed as I took his hard dick into my hand and gently stroked it as I moved it aside so I could kiss his stomach. I stuck my tongue out just a little, so I could taste his skin. He moaned as I finally took him into my mouth and sucked on him until he released himself to me. When he’d finished, I curled back into his lap and laid my head on his chest so I could hear the thumping of his heart. I held him for what felt like forever. Listening to the city sounds and the ticking clock. Eventually, I led him to my bedroom, where we curled up under the covers to sleep like the dead until morning.


	9. Chapter 9

Oct. 22, 1981

My lover’s got humour  
He’s the giggle at a funeral  
Knows everybody’s disapproval  
I should’ve worshipped him sooner  
“We were born sick”, you heard them say it  
My church offers no absolutes  
He tells me, “Worship in the bedroom”  
The only Heaven I’ll be sent to   
Is when I’m alone with you  
I was born sick, but I love it  
Command me to be well…

Dear Diary,

Morning arrived way faster than I would have liked it to. The sun was shining through the window and I could smell a cigarette burning. I opened my eyes and my mood improved right away when I saw Arthur sitting in my favorite spot, smoking his cigarette, the morning light illuminating him as he gazed out the window. He must have had run home and gotten some dry clothes because he had clean, dry pants on...but no shirt for whatever reason, which was fine by me. I laid there observing him for a few more moments. He was sitting kinda hunched over the way he did when he was contemplating something and I realized how much I enjoyed the curious angles of his body. I noticed he was looking stronger since his appetite had recently improved (due maybe to his meds running out) but he was still so skinny. I had never been into skinny guys, but somehow he made it look good.   
I threw the covers back and to my chagrin I was naked. I sat up in bed and reached into my night table for a slip. He turned around to look at me as I began to slide it over my head, my arms in the air, my bare breast in full view. I felt myself blush. “Don’t get any ideas”, I told him. He gave me a big smile and signaled for me to come over to him with the crook of one finger. I walked up behind him and lightly ruffled his hair, then traced the curve of his spine with my fingertip, as I walked past his side I raked my nails lightly over his ribs. His body shuddered. I then plopped down on the long cushioned bench that he was sitting on. I folded my legs so I could sit facing him, our knees touching, and I straightened my back to gather my courage. He reached out to rest his hand on my leg and I took it in mine. I raised it to my mouth and kissed his precious fingers before holding it tight in my lap.   
I wanted to ask him a million questions about the night before but I was terrified as to what I would find out. I reached out for his other hand that was holding the cigarette, leaned forward, and guided it up to my mouth so I could steal a drag. (Deep breath in. Hold. Dizziness. Ok, ready.) “Arthur, my love, what in the fuck happened to you yesterday?” (That feeling of deja vu). He let out a little laugh, turned away from me, puffed on his cigarette. “Are you sure you want to know, Sophie?” he asked. Yikes, I thought. I nodded my head yes. “Ok, don’t say I didn’t warn you”, he said sarcastically. He flicked his spent cigarette out of the window and took a moment to pull out a new one. I signaled for him to light me one as well. He lit them both at once and handed me one. (I could only smoke if I was drunk or ready to shit my pants nervous). We both puffed our cigarettes as I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped an arm around them. Our eyes met through the haze. He started by telling me about his confrontation with his mother the night before she went into the hospital. He explained how she would write letters to Thomas Wayne and have Arthur mail them almost daily, hoping for a response from him, and receiving none. He was finally fed up with the whole thing and decided to read one of the letters for himself. It revealed that his mother was asking Thomas Wayne for financial help and claiming that Arthur was his son. He paused, and we took a moment to puff on our cigarettes while I digested that little gem of information. He continued. He apparently had to beg her for more information and she admitted to him that Thomas Wayne was indeed his father. The very next morning he headed to Wayne’s house to speak to him. When he arrived he was surprised to find Wayne’s son Bruce playing right beyond the gates. He kind of mumbled over how things went a little off course when the butler arrived and intervened, but the butler told him that he knew his mother Penny, and just straight out told him that she was delusional. Crazy. Like mental hospital crazy. His sweet little old mother! I was just nodding along. I had no words.   
He continued, and it turned out that the night after we visited Penny in the hospital, he had found out on the news that Wayne would be attending a benefit at Wayne Hall later that same night. He figured it was his opportunity to confront Wayne so he snuck in the benefit and did so. Wayne not only ridiculed him but told him his mother was indeed crazy, had been institutionalized, and insisted that he was actually adopted by her. I had seen him the next morning after this incident, but it had just so happened that he had just gotten off the phone with the Murray Franklin show and so he hadn’t been upset or even thinking about the events that had transpired the night before; and when I had headed to work at that point, he went over to Arkham State Hospital to see if he could find out anything further about Wayne’s claims about Penny. At this point I was thinking to myself that I needed to quit my job so as to never leave him alone to his own devices again. But anyways, he found out some fucked up shit. I can’t even bear to write it down. It made me sick. And furious. He was quiet then and I felt a heavy sadness settle over me and my chest ached like my literal heart was being affected. I hadn’t cried in years, but I felt the tears streaming down my face and my body rattled with sobs. I stood up so that I could grab him and hold him to me. He rested his cheek against my breasts and I wrapped my arms around him tightly. I kissed the top of his head. I lifted his face to mine and though his eyes were closed, I could see the tears glistening along his eyelashes and one escaped and drifted down his cheek. I leaned forward so as to catch it with the tip of my tongue, then lightly licked my way back up his cheek, enjoying the feel of his stubble on my tongue. I kissed each of his eye lids and licked my lips to taste the salt of his tears. I kissed his adorably crooked nose and the scar above his lip. I kissed his sweet lips. He kissed me back for a short moment but then he pulled away. He used the back of his hands to wipe the tears from his eyes. When we locked eyes I saw something different there. He had turned off the sadness just like that and I saw in them a look of determination mixed with...something else that I couldn’t quite put my finger on but that gave me instant goosebumps. “I have to go see my mother. Alone. But I’ll be back as soon as I’m finished there.” I felt a shiver go up my spine and the word “fuck” flashed in my mind in big, capital, neon letters. “Ok”, I said out loud. “I’ll be here waiting for you”.  
He was turning out to be a man of his word, and he came back rather quickly. I was showered, dressed, and nervously cleaning up around the apartment while awaiting his knock at the door. Thanks to the feeling of anticipation, the sound of his knock made me jump out of my skin for a moment. I put my hand over my heart and rushed to the door. I threw it open and immediately looked him up and down, as if searching for some sort of clue as to how his visit to Penny had went. And well, he looked rather relaxed. “So it went ok?” I asked. “It actually really did”, he replied but with a mysterious air. He reached out his hand for mine and with the other hand I pulled shut the door of my apartment as he led me into the hall. We headed to his place and when we got inside he told me to make myself comfortable. I nodded and wandered in as he headed through the bedroom and into the bathroom. I realized that I really hadn’t even noticed the place upon my last visit. It was tidy enough and it was clear that an old lady lived there. Just the look of the furniture and decorations, and the hint of old lady smell, not unpleasant, something like baby powder, moth balls, and perfume. I also hadn’t noticed all of the newspaper clippings that Arthur had put up. I had been so caught up in my and Arthur’s little personal dramedy that I had forgotten all about the chaos that was taking place downtown; in large part due to Arthur’s actions. He was basically a mystery celebrity at this point. I went into the bedroom and he called out to me from the bathroom. I headed over and found him there, standing in his underwear. I raised my eyebrows at him and grinned. “I need to start getting ready for the show”, he said, “but I just wanted you to know, I’ve never lied to you about anything…” he kind of trailed off and I shook my head in confusion. “What are you trying to say, spit it out.” I demanded. “I just feel like I have to tell you...I killed Penny. Just now. I suffocated her with her fucking pillow, but I feel good about it, so I’m just telling you because we love eachother and it just seems like something you should know”. Well damn, I thought to myself. If he hadn’t done it, I might of had to do it myself, the dumb cunt, allowing his abuse the way she had. “That’s ok baby”, I told him. “I’m just glad you feel better.” He looked relieved and gave me a big, crooked smile. He leaned in to give me a sweet little peck on the mouth then went into the bedroom to put on some music. “This calls for a little Sinatra”, he told me. I nodded my head in agreement and made myself comfortable on the bed. I laid back with my arms folded behind my head and legs crossed at the ankle so I could watch him in the bathroom. He was working on a whole new look for the show and the first thing he had to do was dye his hair. He had chosen a neon green to match the clown masks that the protestors were all wearing. I had never seen him so free. He was making a god awful mess, dancing, pouring the dye on his hair, and shaking around like a wet dog, while I just laughed and enjoyed the show he was putting on for me. When he was finished, he stood in the bathroom doorway, streaks of green dye still rolling down his chest. He leaned on the frame, and raised one eyebrow at me. “What do you think?” he asked charmingly. “Wow, really, you look great, it suits you.” I said. The green hair made his eyes shine like emeralds. “Wow”, I said again and really meant it. He looked pleased with my reaction and sat down at the vanity to work on his makeup. With lazy strokes, and a cigarette in one hand, he brushed on his white face makeup. He even stuck out his tongue and painted it too. I had to clamp my hand over my mouth to stifle a laugh. He really was such a fucking character. Just unabashedly himself. My heart swelled a little.   
Just then, a knock on the door interrupted our moment. I popped up in bed and he turned the music off, looked through the drawers of the vanity table, pulled out a pair of stainless steel scissors, and slid them into his back pocket as he stood. “Stay. Put”, he said to me, looking at me with his big doe eyes. He sounded deadly serious. “Yes sir”, I replied, eyes wide. He left the bedroom, pulling the bedroom door behind him so that it was only open a crack. I laid back and pulled the cover over me, up to my chin like a frightened child. I was really scared it was going to be the police and I didn’t know how he was keeping his cool the way that he was. Thinking better of hiding, I threw the cover back off and sat on the edge of the bed, craning my neck to listen. I grabbed the pack of cigarettes and lighter off of the bedside table, lit one up, and then padded to the slightly open bedroom door. I pasted myself up against the wall right next to the door so that I could listen around the corner. I was relieved when I heard him welcome in Randall and Gary; at least it wasn’t the cops. I recalled that Randall was the piece of shit that had helped to get Arthur fired. “Uh oh”, I thought to myself. They asked him about the makeup, and I shit you not, he replied, “My mom died, I’m celebrating.” I guess he really had no fucks left to give, I thought to myself; I was proud of him. They gave their condolences but right away Randall started asking Arthur about being questioned by the cops. I leaned back on the wall, closed my eyes, and took a drag of my cigarette. I had a sinking feeling this wasn’t going to end well. I braced myself. Just then I heard the creepiest laugh come out of Arthur. I took another puff and held it. I felt the dizziness hit and then I heard the shit hit the fan. Suddenly I heard screaming, struggling, banging...squishing? Splattering? My body shook with a chill but I stayed put. Kept on smoking, waited it out. It was finally quiet again besides Gary’s weeping; I opened my eyes. They had a little exchange and I heard Arthur tell Gary, “Don’t look, just go.” “Jesus Christ”, I whispered under my breath. Hearing him open the front door for Gary, I walked back around to the other side of the bed, so I wouldn’t look quite as nosy as I felt. When he came back into the bedroom I was so shocked at the look of him that I just stood staring with my mouth hanging open. He literally had to walk over to me and physically push my chin back up with his finger. He was splattered in blood; it was all over his face and bare chest but he looked completely unfazed. Just acting casual. His eyes looked larger than usual nestled within the striking white of his makeup, accented by glistening crimson streaks, his blue slacks hanging low on his hips, with just that little bit of underwear showing… He cupped my face and kissed me. I could taste the blood that was speckled on his mouth. An animal instinct took over me and I bit down on his bottom lip, hard. The moan that escaped his lips unleashed a wave of desire within me that made me light headed.  
Next thing I know he was pulling my t-shirt off over my head. I didn’t have a bra on so he leaned in and bit my nipple. This was unlike my usually shy lover. He kissed my neck, sucking on it, then licking his way down my chest, back to my breasts. I watched him suck on each one and my body flooded with pleasure. He undid my pants and pulled them all the way down for me. He did the same with my panties. I stepped out of them and laid down on the bed. He positioned himself over me and gently lowered his body onto mine, wrapping his arms around and under my torso so that his hands were cradling my head, his fingers tangled in my hair. We were smearing blood all over the place and our chests and stomachs were literally slick against each other because of it. I could feel his erection straining through his pants, massaging my already wet cunt. I pushed him off of me so that I could free him from the confines of his clothing. I rubbed his throbbing cock through his pants, as much as I wanted him, I always wanted to prolong the tension just a little longer. He sighed, looking me in the eye, whispering one simple word, “Please.” Finally undoing his button, and pulling down his zipper, I freed him from his binds. I immediately took him into my mouth and I heard his inhale of breath; the sharp knife of pleasure stabbing my lower stomach. I started rocking my body softly to the music playing in my mind. Gripping him tightly in my mouth as I moved slowly up and down over his shaft; feeling the details of his tasty cock with my taut lips. Swishing my hair over his stomach and thighs, humming as I swayed to the thumping bass that was rolling through me. Baby I’m thinking it over, what if the way we started made it something cursed from the start? What if it only gets colder, would you still wrap me up and tell me that you think this was smart?   
I released his dick from its warm embrace so I could drag my tongue from the bottom of his balls to the very tip of his dick, where I licked the waiting glisten of cum. His entire body shook. I wrapped my mouth around the head so I could trace its outline with my tongue, softly prodding its opening, then lightly suckling him. His hips had been moving along to the rhythm of my caresses, but he suddenly stopped so he could withdraw himself from my mouth. “I want to come deep inside of you”, he whispered raggedly, as he gently laid me out on the bed next to him. He eased himself over me, supporting his weight on his arms, allowing his rock hard member to slide between the wet, wanting folds of my pussy, slicking against my clit. His breathing was deep and his exhales filled with yearning as he lost himself in our shared bliss, eyes closed, brows furrowed, boyish curls falling around his face, his lovely mouth slightly ajar. The music was pulsing in my mind, and swirls of colors joined in to the beat. When he finally entered me, I felt an overwhelming strike of pleasure and rush of love for him. I pulled him down close to me and kissed him furiously. “Arthur, I love you so much”, I whispered to him between fervent kisses. Our entire bodies were rubbing against each other, my tits pressed up high on my chest where he could dip down and catch a nipple in his mouth as they bounced enticingly. I was filled with so much desire, but just when I thought I couldn't get any more aroused, I would feel his dick push against my insides and another wave of fiery pleasure would rush over me. It was then I knew I had never "made love" before that day. I kissed his neck as he sighed close to my ear. I could feel his warm breath as he whispered to me tenderly, "I love you, Sophie." I felt the pang of lightning in the pit of my stomach. "I love you, Arthur", I murmured back. He pulled back so he could look into my eyes but he didn't stop moving inside of me. "When you cum on my dick, could you call me Joker?" He questioned me. He said it so seductively, so coyly, that it sent me right over the fucking edge. I closed my eyes tight and threw my head back as I felt my insides start to throb and pulse against him. Fireworks started to go off in my brain as I held his dick in a vice grip of undulating muscle, my hips bucking against his. "Joker!" I screamed out in ecstasy as I opened my eyes so I could see his reaction. He scrunched up his adorable face and immediately let himself climax, grinding himself into me, pounding every little bit of release into my anxiously waiting core. God I loved watching his face as he came; he was the most beautiful thing that I had ever seen, and he was all mine. When he finished, he opened his eyes to look at me and give me a heart stopping grin. He rolled off of me and we both laid side by side for a moment to steady our breathing.   
When I felt the cobwebs clear from my mind, I rolled over to face him, and I propped my head up on my hand. "Joker?", I asked teasingly. He turned to give me a sly smile. "You'll see", he said to me. I did want to see. I was really excited to see. I looked us both up and down and the mess we had made was kind of surreal. “We better wash up, you have to start getting ready all over again...and we can just burn these sheets.” I said to him. I was really thinking we needed to burn the whole apartment down, what with the dead body in the other room, but I didn’t want to be a downer so I just kept that to myself. We headed to the bathroom, both got in the tub, and we took turns washing the blood off of eachother, like we were performing some sort of ritual. When we were finished I slipped my clothes back on and went back into the bedroom to strip the bed while he reapplied his face paint. I sat down in the middle of the bed, suddenly filled with anxiety. I looked at the clock and it was getting close to show time. Before he was finished with his makeup he told me to lay back in the bed and close my eyes so that I wouldn’t see him until he was completely dressed and ready. I heard him moving around the room, doing this and that, until finally, he instructed me to sit up and open my eyes. When I say I was literally blown away when I laid eyes on him...He was absolute fucking perfection. It was as if he had metamorphosed, like a beautiful, crazy, slightly murderous butterfly. His face makeup and outfit were completely different than his previous clown get up. The suit itself was a bright, intense red, with a gold waistcoat, and sea-green button down shirt underneath. His makeup played off the colors of the suit just exquisitely and the composition of it was so much more refined than when he made himself up as Carnival. Of course, his sparkling green eyes were still the star of the show; and they had a new intensity, fire and confidence in them. He lit a cigarette and did a sexy little strut for me. It was all so sophisticated and stylish...and sexy as hell on him, all the way down to his two-tone oxfords. If someone would have told me previously that I would be into clowns, I would have laughed straight in their face, but there I was, completely smitten with this clown.   
“Well, I guess I better head home and throw something decent on, if you are ready to go?” I asked. We had decided to head down to the show separately (they had given him a free ticket for a guest), since the cops kept showing up looking for him everywhere he went. “Ok”, he said. “Let's go then.” I walked over to him, still on the bed, and when I reached him he scooped me into his arms like a princess. “Close your eyes”, he told me and I obliged. He walked us out into the living room. I felt him take a big step over “something” (gulp), and then we were out the front door and into the hall. He placed me back on my feet lightly and we walked over to my apartment hand in hand. When we reached my door I realized that the anxiety I had been feeling earlier had turned into panic. I didn’t know what exactly he had planned for the show, but nothing had ever been simple with him. And obviously the cops were looking for him and he was about to appear on live tv. I wanted to grab him tight and never let him go but I knew he was on a mission of some sort, and I knew he was not an animal that could be caged anyways. Instead, I ran my hands over his shoulders, smoothed his lapel. I hugged him gently as I didn’t want to muss his perfect outfit. I nuzzled his neck with my face and breathed him in. I let my one hand glide down his back to his pert little butt and I gave it a hard pinch. He growled in his throat as he captured my mouth in his. I pulled away, Iooking him in his eyes as I felt tears rush to mine. “Don’t forget about me when you get famous, or you know, infamous.” I tried to give a little laugh. He took my face in his hands and when he kissed me I could feel the electricity and excitement that was flowing through him. “I could never forget you, and I’ll always love you Sophie, you are my everything”, he said to me, and I believed him. “I love you...Joker, more than I ever thought possible”. I watched him walk to the elevator and get in. He turned to face out, shadows resting on his face, a half-smile playing on his lips as the doors closed. He looked ready to take on the world and I felt bad for anyone who tried to get in his way.


End file.
